Bookmaker
by Walking with Kings
Summary: I met him when I was still a student, you know. I had no idea who he was, but I knew he was special. I knew that he was someone who mattered. My name is Ginny Weasley, and I fell for Harry Potter, the Bookmaker. Knowledge is power, after all. AU!
1. The Books

It was amazing, really, the way his body moved. He looked completely aloof as he twisted and turned around the spellfire rocketing toward him, lithe muscles tensing and relaxing on cue. There was no wasted movement in his calculated dodging of the spells being hurled at him. A slight twist of his torso, a small tilt of his head, and the spells shot past him with millimeters to spare.

His icy green eyes narrowed as a spell ripped itself free from his wand and shot toward his opponent, and the man's eyes widened as he hurriedly produced a shield. The shield held, but turned an angry shade of red as the curse pushed it to its limit. Abruptly, the curse was cancelled, and the shield collapsed under the sudden loss of pressure. And then, without warning, the man with blazing green eyes was standing before the second man, wand touching the man's chin, the second man's wand in his grasp.

"Harry Potter is the victor!" The announcer bellowed out to the roaring crowd, and I had to cover my ears as the noise reached painful levels. Harry held his arms above his head in a gesture of triumph, and the crowd redoubled their efforts to cause permanent injury to their vocal cords.

The announcer, by this time, had made his way down into the large-ish ring where the combatants stood, and a sudden hush came over the crowd as they watched in anticipation.

"Harry Potter will now take his prize," the announcer stated into a small, magical microphone, taking the wand from the defeated duelist that stood before Harry. He handed the wand to the victor and for a moment, the world was silent as the defeated took a knee on the ground before Harry.

Harry raised his wand slowly, his face an indifferent visage set in stone, as he stared down the length of yew enclosed in his fist toward his opponent. His wand twitched.

The man's head exploded in a shower of gore, bloody pieces of bone and brain matter raining down upon the crowd, which soon resumed its frantic and exuberant screaming.

Money was exchanging hands, I noted dully, giving my wand a small swish to keep any gore from reaching me. I hated these underground dueling matches, and the only reason I was here now was that finding Harry Potter was damn near impossible. This was the only place he had been seen in on a regular basis lately, and, as distasteful as this place was, it was worth it to see that man.

I waved at him. He blinked back, then nodded. I left.

Twenty minutes later found him and I alone in an alleyway behind the warehouse that had housed the illegal dueling match. He looked no worse for the wear. He had not even broken a sweat during his match with the cocky young man he had killed. He also looked like he held no remorse, and I cracked a small smile at that observation.

"So, Ginny Weasley," The man with the icy green eyes started, "What can I do for you?"

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><p>I walked down the steps in the main entrance hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, humming a small tune as I went. A small breeze whirls through the foyer of the castle, rustling the robes that hung loosely around my frame and sending a small shiver down my spine. A man was standing in front of me suddenly, confusing me for a moment before I gave a small squeak as I attempted to backpedal, but I tripped on the stairs that I had forgotten I was on. I fell to my arse with a ungraceful grunt.<p>

"Steady yourself, girl," The stranger said in a neutral voice, " I mean you no harm."

I had not noticed until that moment that I had drawn my wand and had pointed it at the stranger. The man looked down at my wand and then back at me, eyebrows raised as he displayed his empty hands for me to see. I blushed an hurriedly stowed my wand back into my robes.

The man gave me a small, approving smile.

"I am looking for Headmaster Dumbledore. Will you lead me to his office?" The man's tone of voice belied the fact that it was a command, hidden behind a question.

I tried, and apparently failed, to mutter some coherent sentence, tried to tell him that I didn't know where it was. The man knew it was a lie, and annoyance sparked into life in his eyes. A small sliver of fear pierced through me at that moment, and I knew, without a doubt, that this man was dangerous. For a few long moments, my body was frozen, paralyzed by fear of this man as magic saturated the area, the smell of ozone lingering in my nose as magic poured from his body, the tension palpable in the air.

For a few long moments, I considered saying no, I considered defying this man who stood before me, a stranger to the halls of Hogwarts. For a few long moments, I thought like the Gryffindor that I was.

But common sense won out, and I led him to the Headmaster's office.

I don't really know why I considered saying 'no' to leading him there, I was headed there anyway. _Probably just a Gryffindor being defiant for no real reason,_I thought with a small amount of humour.

As we approached our destination, I surveyed the man carefully out of the corner of my eye. He was not tall, but not short. He didn't appear to be well-muscled, but he also didn't appear weak. He walked confidently, back straight, and his icy green eyes seemed to see everything at once. I also noticed that he was carrying a large parcel.

We stood awkwardly in front of the gargoyle for a moment. I didn't know the password, and obviously neither did he, as he continued to stand there, studying the ancient stone guardian that acted as the entrance to the office of Albus Dumbledore.

After a few minuted, he cracked a small smile and tapped his wand against the statue, which promptly, to my undying amazement, slid aside.

He ascended the stairs, and I, belatedly, ran up the stairs behind him as the gargoyle started to close the entrance to the revolving staircase. I reached the top of the stairs in short order, quietly stepping up the slightly open door and peering through the crack into the office of the most powerful wizard in recent memory.

"Ah, Harry, I see you've returned," The headmaster said in greeting to the strange man. There was a light twinkle in the aging wizards eyes, seemingly at odds with the fact that a strange man was in his office without his permission. The portraits hung in random order on the walls of his office were vocalizing my thoughts unknowingly.

"Headmaster," the man nodded toward him, his back toward me as he stood in front of the headmaster's desk. He dropped the large package delicately on the desk. "I've brought the book. Look it over quickly."

The headmaster nodded and tore through the packaging with a silent spell. As the paper fell to the wayside, I took notice of the extremely thick tome that the man had deposited onto the desk. The book was nondescript, with no title visible to me. I could not see much of the cover or spine of the book, but the edges of the pages that I could see were word, old-looking, and had the odd stain on them. Some of the stains were dark, and looked to me to be blood. The thought made me a bit woozy.

"I see you've done your research, Harry," The headmaster said, looking over his glasses at the young man as he opened the book delicately, turning the pages slowly as he leafed through the massive tome before him. "Very interesting, although I cannot say I agree with the topic that you have chosen to pursue.

"However, I commend you for the great detail that you have gone into in documenting this." The headmaster stopped turning the pages and leaned closer to inspect something he saw more closely.

"Ah, I see you've found that spell most interesting," The man noted wryly, finally taking a seat in one of the armchairs available in front of the old wizard's desk. "I agree, of course, though the practical applications, I've found, are harder to use than one would expect."

"I can understand why. The sheer amount of variables that come into play would be difficult to compensate for," The headmaster produced his wand and waved it. Shortly after, a large _bowl_ of some sort came floating into view, dropping onto the desk with a thump. With no prompt, the man (Harry, I reminded myself) placed his own wand to his temple and withdrew a long, silvery strand from his head, which he placed into the bowl.

The headmaster placed the book to the side and nodded to Harry, who, at the same time as the old man, seemingly _plunged_ into the bowl, leaving the office empty.

I peered further into the office, weighing my chances of getting caught lurking. Deciding to just go for it, I mustered up my courage and opened the door further, quickly slinking into the office and up to the desk.

I looked at the book and a strange sensation overcame me. I felt... awed, afraid, scared, unaware of the magnitude of power that came from the book. Instinctively, I knew that this book was something special, something _more_ than any book I had seen before.

My thoughts were halted at that moment as the bowl that the two had disappeared into began to swirl more violently, and I looked around for somewhere to hide. I groaned internally as I found that the curtains were my only viable option and I ran towards them. I had been hidden for no more thatn a moment when both men reappeared.

"Truly fascinating, my boy! Truly fascinating. Tell me, how did this spell come about?" The headmaster looked younger than I had ever seen him, and he looked so very happy. Excited, even. And then, as one, they tensed and turned slowly toward my hiding place. Faster than I could track, the man, Harry, was in front of me, wand pressed into my jaw.

I laughed nervously.

"Miss Weasley, care to explain why you are here in my office without my permission?" The headmaster asked cheerfully, though his eyes belied the seriousness of this transgression.

Harry's eyes bored into mine and I found that I couldn't breath as I stared back into those icy chips of emerald.

And that is how I, Ginny Weasley, met Harry Potter.

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><p>"I want a book, Harry," I said confidently, watching him as he leaned against the wall of one of the buildings that lined the alleyway. "You know what I'm talking about."<p>

"You also know what acquiring such a book entails, if you know about the book."

"I do, and I am willing to pay the price."

"You don't even know what the price is."

"No, but I am willing to pay it," I stared into his eyes, those damnable icy eyes, as I made my statement. He stared back, unwilling to look away as he gauged my intentions. I could feel him slithering into my mind, wandlessly and wordlessly using legilimency on my unprotected mind.

"And if I refuse?" He queried softly, eyes remaining on mine.

"Then I go to the ministry and tell them exactly what is in those books of yours. They would have a field day with it, I'm sure," I gave him a coy smile as I moved closer to him, ending my threat in a bare whisper as I moved my mouth up to his ear. My body was pressed against his gently, and I allowed myself a moment of reminiscence. Midnight trysts in the halls of Hogwarts, rooms rented in various taverns all over Britain, and some beyond the borders of the small country, kisses stolen under the noses of my friends and parents.

I smiled as the memories assaulted me. He did not share my amusement.

"I do not fear your government, or the people who make it run. They could not catch me, nor detain me, unless I chose to make it so."

"I don't doubt that, Harry," I smiled at him, a true smile this time, "But I also know that you prefer to... fly under the radar, as it were. I know that it would cause you undue annoyance if I were to do so." I slowly, almost regretfully, pulled my body away from his. He, in turn, removed his wand from my ribcage. I hadn't even noticed it there. I hid my surprise well, but I knew that he saw it.

"Very well, Ginny. Let me tell you of the price involved in this little endeavor. It starts with blood. The book is tied to you, in every way, shape, and form that magic allows. You cannot give it away, cannot loan it to anyone, and it cannot be read by anyone but you.

"After the blood, I need money. Around six-hundred-thousand galleons. It pays for the travel involved, and a little profit for myself.

"The last part of my price is the one that is most difficult for most people to bear. Most people attempt to get out of this part of the deal, and I have had to hunt them down and... reclaim the books."

He had closed the distance while he had been talking, and he was once again looking straight into my eyes. My eyes darted to the side, unable to hold the weight of his burning emerald eyes.

"The final payment, Ginevra Molly Weasley, is your magic, which I take when you are on your deathbed."

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><p><strong>AN: Hey guuuys. A new story, because ideas pop into my head, and I write them down. <strong>

**Yeah, I have ADD, so what?**

**Anyway, hope you like it.**

**Don't forget to review, please. :D**

**-Brandon.**


	2. The Run

I don't remember much more of that day. I remember speaking to him, I remember him naming his price, and I remember being scared out of my mind of those burning green eyes. But I don't remember anything more. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in my bed. To be honest, at first I thought it was just a dream.

But then the Aurors burst through my bedroom door, and I knew it hadn't been a dream. I had my wand out and pointed at them before I could even register that they had done the same to me. I had always prided myself on being quite intelligent, but this situation made me feel quite stupid. Pulling your wand on an Auror? Big no-no. Pulling your wand on three? A big, stupid no-no.

And that was the situation I found myself in, pulling my wand on three Aurors, hardened from the war and ready to eliminate any threat posed to them. One Auror began to cast, and time seemed to slow down as he brandished his wand in a high arc, the final motions of a severing charm. I saw the spell hurtling toward me, and I brought my wand up to cast a shield. Even as I went through the motions of the spell, I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the spell in time to block it. I saw my death flying toward me, a severing charm, over-powered by the looks of it, heading toward my abdomen at breakneck speed, and I closed my eyes, wand still motioning for the shield charm in futility.

It never connected. I cracked my eyes open a bit, and then they flew open. All three Aurors, on the floor, either unconscious or dead, but very still. The room was silent for a moment as I brought my eyes up from the floor to look at the man who had mysteriously appeared in my doorway. Three guesses about who it was. I gave a shaky, wry smile.

"Harry, what the fuck is going on?" I asked as I sat down on my bed, trying to quell the storm of emotion beating down upon my mind, trying to stop the shaking of my limbs. I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs.

"I leave you here for two hours, and you already have Aurors after you. You're certainly turning out to be a bad little girl, Ginevra," I could tell he was mocking me. A deaf monkey could tell he was mocking me. But I couldn't bring myself to care at the moment. My near-death was still fresh in my mind, and all I could think of was my gratefulness toward him, for saving my life. Though, I still didn't know why I had been attacked to begin with.

"What is going on, Harry?" I asked again, stronger, more confidently this time.

"You don't remember?" He doesn't sound surprised. He sounds exasperated, as if I was a child that got an answer wrong on a test.

I felt my face heat up indignantly. "What am I supposed to remember? All I know is that I was talking to you at the warehouse, _and then I was here_!" I was shouting by the end of my sentence, but I couldn't bring myself to care. He shot me a warning glance.

"We were attacked, at the warehouse. Someone followed you to me," He said it simply, no surprise or anger tinting his words, as he waved his wand at the Aurors. The three bodies on the floor of my room disappeared with a soft pop, and he nodded.

"To put it simply, Ginny," He turned those beautiful green eyes on mine, stepping closer and lowering his voice, "Someone is hunting me, and by association, you."

A sharp lance of fear shot through me, at his words. I didn't know what kind of people would hunt him, but I knew a bit about his line of work. I had gleaned, from various conversations with him, that his chosen profession led him into many dangerous situations, some life-threatening, even for him. And, though he didn't seem to be too concerned by the fact that he was being _hunted_, I did not have the benefit of the vast amounts of magical knowledge that he did. And I knew that they would go through me to get to him.

I'll admit it, I was a bit scared. Just a bit, mind you. Not totally terrified, not at all.

He held his hand out. I stared at it for a long moment, noting dully the callouses that spread across his proffered hand in a network that screamed of a life hard lived, scars twisted and curved up and around his finger, down his palm, and off onto his sleeved arm, hidden from my view. I had seen all of this before, but it all seemed to take on a new light when he had shared with me the fact that I was now in danger because I had become involved in his life, once more.

And yet, somehow, that thought didn't seem to bother me as much as it rightfully should. I mean, I knew that I was in danger, but, as I stared down at his open palm, I couldn't help but feel safe while I was with him. And that's probably why I reached out and grabbed his hand.

And then we were gone.

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><p>I could see shapes flying past, too quick to register what they were, a simple, beautiful blur that assaulted my senses. As I fought to identify things that flew by, I took notice of the man holding onto me, catapulting us through this disorienting vortex of sight and sound. His wand wasn't out, I saw, and for a brief moment, I wondered how he was doing this. But then reality demanded my attention as we slammed back onto the ground, the sudden change in velocity knocking the air from my lungs, and I fell to the ground for a moment, attempting to regain my bearings.<p>

"Don't worry," Harry called from a few feet away, still on his feet while I panted on the ground in front of him, "It happens to everyone the first few times."

"What - the hell - was that?" I grunted out through my hurried and shallow breaths. I attempted to stand, and belatedly realized it was a bad idea as I fell back to the earth in a heap.

He ignored me for a few minutes, instead preferring to wave his wand around in complicated motions, looking for all the world like a conductor, ordering around an orchestra with subtle swishes and flicks of his long, ivory-coloured wand. Arcane symbols, adorning the shimmering blue field of light that sprang into existence from the tip of his wand, danced along and away from us, stirring up a slight breeze in the clearing of a small forest that we had landed in. The symbols were like nothing I had seen before, shining with an unholy light that seemed to burn reality around it, warping the universe to its castor's image, mocking the whole of creation as it moved along its master's path. Finally, he nodded, seemingly satisfied with the expanse of energy that he had let loose on the earth.

"Don't worry about it, it definitely won't be in your Book," He made a note of something in a small, leather-bound notebook that he produced out of thin air, which, as he finished, just as quickly disappeared.

"Wait, I didn't agree! I never agreed to pay the price!" I cried out desperately, temporarily forgetting my breathing troubles. I was reminded swiftly as a bout of lightheadedness struck me, and I took a few deep, lingering breaths to steady myself, even as a coldness settled into my heart. "Why are you talking like I have accepted it?"

He gave me a long, lingering, strange look. "Because you did, when we were attacked behind the warehouse. You accepted the payment, and I have already extracted the first two payments from you. Blood and gold."

The way he said it deepened the coldness that had made its home in my chest, and I remembered. Flashing lights, fire, screams, and then pain as he took his payment from my flesh. I hesitantly looked down, noticing for the first time a dull ache in my arm. I stared dumbly at a long, thin scar running down the pale skin of my forearm, marring the previously unblemished expanse of flesh. The sleeve of my robe had been torn away, I noticed, with no regard to the expensive fabric.

"When did you have time to get the gold?" I asked softly, looking down at the ground as I struggled to come to terms with the sacrifice I had just made. The blood and gold were nothing. I had my entire life to regain the gold, and the blood was a small thing, as long I watched him use it. But the final price...

"When you were unconscious. The contract puts a strain on the Contracted. I'm not surprised that it knocked you out," He said, giving me a wry grin as he offered his hand to me, giving me a chance to get up off the ground. I took it, and heaved myself up, with his help, and brushed off my already ruined robes.

"Now, I need to assess your skill set. Face me," He commanded, and I automatically tore my wand through the air, sending a nonverbal banishing charm at his midsection. He turned, and it flew by him. I didn't stop there, cutting charms, curses, hexes, and defensive spells flew from my wand as fast as I could cast them, hurtling through the air at a speed difficult to track. I knew I had him trapped as three spells cut through the space between us, coming from three separate directions a high speeds.

Imagine my surprise, when, at the last moment, he turned his body the slightest amount and all three spells whizzed harmlessly past him.

He made a note in his notebook, and then looked at me expectantly. I growled, but inside I was quickly tiring, the constant casting taking its toll on a body that wasn't used to such continual movement.

An hour later found me on the ground once more, too exhausted to move any part of my body. Harry had not stopped making notes in his little notebook, scribbling something in it after every set of spells that I cast. He would occasionally say something to me, ask me a question or make a remark about my spells. But for the most part, he was silent, dodging my spells, every single one, with little effort.

I still had no real idea what the purpose of that little exercise was. To see what spells I knew? To see how long I could cast continuously? I had no idea, because I didn't really know what went into the Books. So I had no idea of what he needed to know to make one.

But I knew I wanted one. If only to see him again.

Oh my god, I sounded like such a lovesick little girl.

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><p><strong>AN: And another chapter down, my fine fellows (and fellowesses).<strong>

**Fear me, for I have continued a story! Roar! **

**Yep, no idea what I'm even talking about anymore. Please enlighten me, if you feel like it.**

**Okay! So, a little backstory is in order. Harry is older than in Canon. No idea what age he actually is, because it isn't really important, his exact age. And you'll find out about how old he is eventually. So don't worry about it. Ginny is about 20 in this fic, 16 when they first met. Just because I feel like it. Ginny's occupation is an Auror. Because I feel like it.**

**REVIEW.**

**-Brandon.**


	3. The Silence

I hated this, I decided. I hated not being able to tell what he was thinking, I hated not being able to go home to my family, I hated this constant traveling, but most of all, I hated him. That's not to say I didn't still love him, far from it, in fact. I loved him in all the ways that mattered. But sometimes, sometimes he was just infuriating.

Three months had passed since I began traveling with him. Three months of, really, doing absolutely nothing. All we did was move around, set up camp, sleep, and then move again. And all the while, he wrote in his damn little notebook. We had barely spoken at all during this time, save for small conversations about my Book. Which he immediately wrote down in his notebook.

I just want to burn that damn thing. Seriously.

Sometimes, I wonder how he got to be this way. I mean, he was always cold, distant and untouchable, but he used to at least talk. Him and I used to talk about so many things, for long hours, alone, in the dark of night. But now, now we hardly ever talked. I wonder what happened to him to make him even colder than he was before.

But, I reprimanded myself, back to the present.

Because, you know, the couple dozen Aurors around us were kinda demanding our attention at the moment. It was the first time I had seen an Auror in the time that I had been traveling with him. We had avoided them for a whole three months, so I suppose I should have seen this coming, but still... Still, I wondered who it was that was ordering them to chase us. I used to be an Auror, and I knew that this many of them were never called out, except during raids of ancient manors, suspected of containing dark artifacts, and during wartime. So who...

My thoughts were derailed as they began their opening salvo. Dozens of curses, jinxes, hexes and spells flew at us from all directions. I glanced over at Harry, and I wanted to hit him. He was standing, arms crossed, near-smiling at the oncoming wave of magic spells. He didn't even have his wand out, for Merlin's sake!

I threw up a hurried shield charm, deflecting the surprisingly few spells that were hurtling toward me. I shot a look toward Harry and time seemed to slow. I saw that magic closing in around him, I saw the colours of the spells mixing, forming a murky brown dome around him, making him barely visible to anyone outside the dome.

Then I saw him spread one arm, along the line his collarbones had created in his skeleton, and the done shattered, pieces falling like shards of broken glass to the ground, where they faded from existence. A few of the Aurors caught the magical backlash and fell the their knees, clutching at their chests and screaming in pain, the others all gave each other uneasy looks as they raised their wands once more, to begin the next volley. My shield still stood, but Harry was more proactive.

He closed his eyes and brought both his hands, palms to the sky, up into the air. A soft melody flooded the crowd, and I couldn't help but wonder who it was that was creating such beautiful music. It seemed that our combatants were thinking along much the same lines, for they all stood, dumbstruck, as they listened, none daring to make a move lest they disturb the wondrous harmonies that grazed by them, touching their ears lightly, leaving behind scant traces of happiness in their wake.

Abruptly, the music changed. Gone were the wondrous harmonies, the beautiful melody, and in its place something primal reared it head. Something that lived in the darkness, something that fed on the fears of mortals. Something wicked came into existence at that moment, something evil. And through the change, Harry smiled, he smiled and raised his arms all the higher, the _thing_ growing strong and stronger.

The Aurors were beside themselves by this point, not knowing what was going on, but still enthralled by the music, horrible though it was. Unable to move, I watched as the bestial music tore through them, one by one, rendering them down to their basic components. Gone were the tall, the short, the strong, the weak. In their place, piles of substances that I couldn't identify, nor did I want to know what they were.

Something evil happened that day. And I don't want to know what it was.

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><p>I awoke with a start, near-flying into a sitting position. There was a fire crackling innocently next to me, and a jacket covering me, and I looked confusedly back and forth between them for a few moments. I dully noticed an owl hooting somewhere not too far off, and I turned my head to find Harry standing, a few meters from where I sat, an owl on his outstretched arm, and a newly tied letter attached to its foot. Harry turned his head as he followed the owl's gaze, until he was staring into my eyes.<p>

A brief moment of electricity sparked between our eyes, and my thoughts danced back to my school days. Then my eyes hardened, and he looked away, the moment gone as fast as it had come. There was no use in dragging myself into that pointless reverie once more.

Him and I were over. We had been for years.

_So, _my mind whispered back to me snidely, _why do you miss him so much?_

I silenced that voice cruelly, snuffing out its presence in a second. But I knew it would be back. It always came back. Stupid voice.

The owl took flight, and, as its wingbeats faded into the distance, an oppressive silence filled the makeshift campsite. I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to ask. I had to, but I couldn't.

And then I felt my lips moving.

"Why did you leave, Harry?" I heard myself ask, and my eyes widened. I really shoudn't have asked, I thought as his eyes closed and he sighed. When his eyes opened again, they were hard, chips of emerald framed by shards of bone.

"You know why," And I did. I knew exactly why he left me, 3 years ago. But I refused to admit it to myself. I would stay in denial if it killed me.

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><p><strong>AN: Really short chapter, because life sucks. <strong>

**REVIIIEEEEEW.**

**-Brandon.**


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